


Constellation Dreams

by ladyofstardvst



Category: Deadly Class (Comics), Deadly Class (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Mild Angst, Soulmate AU, its just cute, kings dominion sucks but at least you have a soulmate, not reallt though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-11-07 16:22:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17963972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyofstardvst/pseuds/ladyofstardvst
Summary: All you knew, was your soulmate was here with you at King's Dominion, of all places. Your'e glad they turn out to be Billy Bennett.





	Constellation Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> i've never done a soulmate au before so i hope it's not awful and you like it anyway!!

They always appeared when you least expected them.

Some had words scrawled along their skin, or doodles nestled against the hollow of their wrists or throats. Others had full blown illustrations inked on a leg or arm or ribs, sometimes their entire back. Some could feel a slight irritation, or the burning sting on their skin distracted them from going about their daily routine. Others slept right through the branding, and woke up to a tattoo that definitely wasn't there when they shut their eyes hours before.

Some kept them hidden, some left them exposed for all of the world to see. Some refused to tell anyone about it, while others asked everyone they came in contact with if their tattoo meant anything to them.

The fact was that soulmates were _inevitable_.

The thought filled some with dread. Some fantasized about it. Others were indifferent.

All _you_ knew, was your soulmate was here with you at King's Dominion, of all places.

Of _course_ they were.

You keep it a secret for now, not wanting to endure the sure-to-come intense scrutiny from your friends or anyone else that might hear it through the grapevine. You didn't want to find out who it was because another student figured it out first and used them as blackmailing purposes. This was a school for assassins in training, after all. No one was here to treat you to tea parties and chase rainbows after a severe thunderstorm. No one was here to make friends to sing around a campfire with.

The tattoo was your best kept secret until it _wasn't_.

||

These days, Friday nights were made for cutting lose and getting lost in the moment, for forgetting the looming intensity of finals growing closer and closer. They were made for lounging around the rooftops underneath the ever-changing sky. Golden, butter yellows melted with the russet-tinged sunset orange which bled into champagne reds and royal purples and navy blues. Eventually the sky would become a vast, black expanse sprinkled with constellations and rogue, solitary stars.

It was then, when the sky was void of all color, that your secret slipped away. It became one with the mysteries of the night.

When the world above you went dark, you found Billy Bennett with a cigarette in one hand, and a cassette tape in the other. He was sliding the tape into the deck in the stereo when you sat next to him, head tilted back to hunt for familiar shapes in the cosmos.

He greeted you over the music, and you brought your eyes down from the clouds to meet his own when you returned the greeting. Shadows hid most of his features from sight; the main part of him you saw clearly was the neon green mohawk shining bright from the lights of the city skyline. He was like his own personal star, one of the brightest in a crowd of many. One you could recognize instantaneously, like your favorite cluster of burning stars on the horizon.

Casual conversation flowed easily the rest of the night, like it always had. Nothing was out of the ordinary that night, but your chest squeezed a little tighter when he looked at you, and the kick in your lungs hurt a little more when you made him laugh.

Maybe it was the adrenaline, the lateness of the hour or the warm breeze and fresh air making you dizzy after being cooped up most of the week. Maybe it was the way you thought you caught him looking at you when he didn't notice you peeking. Maybe it was the way he let you lean your head on his shoulder, both of you looking up at the vast array of stars when he asked what your favorite constellation was and if you would help him find it. Or maybe it was the way he wrapped an arm around you and pulled you closer when you caught a chill in a sudden breeze.

You saw it, then, when his sleeve bunched at the elbow when he took another drag of of his next cigarette.

You swore you stopped breathing.

"What-" you began saying.

The music started to sound miles and miles away.

You thought your throat was about to close.

"-is that?"

Billy looked at you, eyebrows scrunching together in confusion; his eyes followed your stare to his fresh tattoo, still a little pink and swollen around the edges.

No one ever mentioned that you'd recognize your own tattoo on your soulmate. You weren't expecting to feel it deep in your soul, like your mortal coil had a mind of it's own - like it _recognize_ _d_ what was going on.

Everything around you faded away when you look up - the sky, the roof, the people - and his eyes were holding your own. The noise, the stress, the past, present and future all vanished because all you saw is an eternity of sharing a life with Billy Bennett.

The mysticism of your secret slips away, the night giving it back to the world and illuminating it with moonlight so bright the stars retreat back into the void, one by one by one.

He kisses you then, because _he knows it too_ , now, and he doesn't know what else to _do_. He doesn't trust himself enough with words and you've suddenly forgotten every one that you'd ever learned. Everything you thought you might say once you found who fit your tattoo cowered deep into your mind. You were entirely speechless.

Both of you really do stop breathing then, it seemed, lost in each other for the rest of the night. He never left your side, and you never left his. You didn't keep your hands to yourself either, but the contact was comforting and innocent and _welcoming_. It felt like a dream.

And for once, this dream was real.


End file.
